


Unconventional

by rainingover



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:58:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingover/pseuds/rainingover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi and Jimin fall into a routine after their bandmates fall asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconventional

Their schedule wraps up early, feet on the familiar floorboards of the dorm by nine pm.

Taehyung, normally still a ball of energy at this time of the day (and beyond), mumbles something about feeling under the weather. He peels away from the rest of the group, still pulling off sweaters and untying shoes, and into the bedroom quietly, Jungkook following with a yawn. The others feel their way into the lounge, argue half heartedly over what to put on the television. Then, they fold themselves into chairs and wait for the excess energy that still burns through their limbs to dissolve.

Yoongi watches Jimin feigning indifference over where he sits, can tell it's all for show, notes the dancer's eyes flickering over to the couch against the back wall, letting the others pass him in the doorway. Yoongi takes a seat, waits expectantly, until Jimin nonchalantly slides into place next to him (not too close, but _there_ , side by side), mumbling something flippant like, "Oh, I guess I'll sit here then."

Yoongi observes dark, tired eyes, but can see there is a determination in them, knows that Jimin could easily have followed their youngest members to bed. That, underneath the nonchalance, Jimin is fighting the natural urge to sleep in order to stay awake with him.

(Thinks that, in a perverse way, it's maybe the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for him.)

Some random movie, already a third of the way through, is left on the screen, and for the first hour there is light chatter, off-hand comments about the film, talk about the schedule for the rest of the week, a couple of rounds of complaining about their current diet.

And then - one by one - eyes closing, sleep taking each of them: Seokjin's head lolled back, hands folded in his lap at the other end of the sofa, Hoseok across the room, curled up on the other couch, eyelashes against his cheeks as soft breaths escape his lips. Namjoon manages to move his limbs before sleep truly grips him, fumbles his way to the door, half asleep. Mutters something about everyone needing to follow, about the prospect of a long day tomorrow.

Jimin murmurs a response. Says, "We'll be through soon." Only half a lie. Yoongi senses the tension that exists in the small space of the room they occupy, notices the anticipation on Jimin's face, tries to suppress a smile.

They give it ten minutes after Namjoon leaves the room, eyes flickering from the television to the sleeping faces of their bandmates. They're paying no real attention to the images on the screen, keeping up appearances for no one but themselves, straining their ears for noises that suggest Namjoon isn't tucked up under covers yet.

Yoongi's mouth is dry and he wonders for a moment what this whole set up is exactly, what it _means_. But then Jimin is _oh-so casually_ standing up to -- to do nothing really; shuffles a pile of magazines on the table, experimenting with noise. No one even stirs. He sits back down again, closer than before.

\---

Yoongi likes the way that Jimin acts surprised at first, every time, even after this has become routine.

Even though Yoongi knows Jimin is expecting this, that it's practically a planned event. Even after he knows Jimin has been to the bathroom to splash water on his face in order to stay awake, even when Jimin has been eyeing him eagerly for over thirty minutes, he _still_ acts surprised.

Says, "Hyung-- now?" when Yoongi closes the small gap between their bodies completely and runs a hand along the inside of his thigh.

Yoongi yakes in Jimin's wide eyes, the way he bites his lip at the first touch. Maybe Jimin isn't genuinely surprised, but he's definitely hesitant about the possible consequences of letting Yoongi wind him up (and up, up, up) here, in the lounge, whilst their friends doze metres away.

"Maybe we shouldn't-- just in case," Jimin breathes. He's struggling to keep control, still staring ahead at the television and trying in vain to focus on the movie as the flat of Yoongi's palm moves slowly, deliberately, over the front of his shorts. He buries his face into Yoongi's shoulder, lips grazing Yoongi's skin as he sucks in a breath. "Hyung-- if they wake up they'll see--" Speaking in soft tones, mouth moving against Yoongi's shoulder, almost not forming words at all.

Yoongi palms harder, turns his head and speaks low as close to Jimin's ear as he can from the angle they're at. "They'll see what?" Wants to hear it from Jimin's mouth, his own cock twitching in his jeans as he feels Jimin grow hard beneath his touch.

Jimin's hips jerk upwards at his touch, almost involuntarily. "Me." He speaks the word through shallow breaths, trying to keep quiet and finding it so, _so_ difficult, stars already dancing in front of his eyes even though hardly anything has happened yet.

"Yeah?" Yoongi turns his hand, closes his fingers around the shape of Jimin's clothed cock with a deliberate motion, teasing.

"They'll see what a-- a mess I am. For you." It comes out in a pained whine.

"Should I stop?" Yoongi asks, just in-case, but Jimin is already grasping at the waistband on his shorts, pushing them down with shaking fingers, cursing as he struggles to wiggle them down under his ass, a short lived wave of relief as he rolls his boxers over his erection, leaves the material bunched up at the top of his thighs.

His face still at Yoongi's neck, he mouths, "No, please just..." into the darkness of Yoongi's shoulder. Impatient.

Yoongi pauses for a second. Wonders what would really happen if Seokjin stopped snoring, if Hoseok's eyes were to flutter open. If any of their other bandmates wandered into the lounge from the bedroom to find that whilst two of their bandmates have fallen asleep in front of the television, two of them-- haven't.

He hasn't quite figured out what turns him on so much about the thought of getting caught turning Jimin into the pliant and needy thing he is under his touch. Just knows that the thought of it, just _imagining_ Jimin's blush, his attempt at a stuttered explanation, makes it hard to think about anything other than Jimin being caught flushed and out of breath, and all because of him.

"Hyung-- _please,_ " Jimin breathes and Yoongi tries to hold back a smile, moves his hand around Jimin's now bare cock, runs his thumb over the slit, slow and teasing, before sliding his grip down to the base at a pace he knows is excruciatingly slow. Jimin's own fists are in balls at his sides, eyes closed tightly, his mouth dry.

Yoongi swipes his tongue over his own lips as he takes in the sight of the top of Jimin's exposed thighs, muscles tenseing as he struggles to keep still. Yoongi can tell he wants the pace quickened, knows how he likes to be touched, has started to recognise the little signs, makes a point of remembering. He sets a rhythm, stroke after stroke emitting fevered whimpers from the low of Jimin's throat, pre-cum coating his fingers.

"Let me see your face, Jimin," Yoongi says, waits for the younger man to turn his head away from the crevice of Yoongi's shoulder and to rest his head back against the cushions of the sofa.

Takes in Jimin's reddened cheeks, the glow of perspiration along his brow, eyebrows furrowed in concentration above closed lids, jaw slack, moan caught in the 'o' of his mouth. Yoongi lifts his free hand, runs his index finger along Jimin's bottom lip and thinks about one day going further, fucking between those lips, seeing them bruised and swollen around his own cock. Wonders how loud Jimin would be, wonders if they would ever get away with it in a room of sleeping men, if Jimin would let him.

Whispers, "Open your eyes." as he fists harder, knows Jimin is almost there, wound tighter and tighter under his hand. Jimin's eyes flutter open painfully slowly. Drowsy, heavy lidded. He almost looks hypnotised.

Yoongi works Jimin's top up around his chest, holds his gaze as he completes the final flicks of his wrist, watches as Jimin lifts a trembling hand and pushes his fist against his mouth, muffled cry as he comes in ropes over his own stomach, and then, body falling loose as he catches his breath, wets his dry lips, blinks and brings himself back to reality.

He looks pretty like this.

Yoongi feels his own erection push against his jeans. He knows Jimin would touch him too if he wanted it, Jimin has asked before, but Yoongi likes to stay focused, likes the thought of staying neatly put together, of being able to stand up and walk away with nothing to show (except for a tightness in his pants, of desire coursing through his veins and a tightness in his chest that he tries to ignore). Of him still being intact and in control, whilst Jimin falls apart.

Likes that no matter how worried Jimin is about the thought of having to explain this to his bandmates if they awoke, it isn't enough to stop him from wanting it, from murmuring "don't tease and just--" under his breath; from bucking his hips erratically, jaw loose, wound up and around Yoongi's hand as the lights from the long forgotten television dance across the wall behind his head.

Yoongi thinks it's kind of romantic, in that fucked up way he's not sure even if understands, that Jimim and he share this-- game, this kink, whatever. That Jimin is willing to stay awake until after 2am some nights. Even when his patience is wearing thin, already loaded with need before Yoongi even slips his hand under his shorts, or sometimes, leans back against the sofa arm for leverage and slides his foot into Jimin's lap, pins him down and watches his eyes roll back as he shifts his heel over his hardened cock until he's already getting dangerously loud before anything has even really began.

Thinks it's kind of _lovely_ that Jimin tries to stay quiet, but can never fully manage, still purrs against his neck, lets filthy words slip from his lips on occasion and then, is left serene, mussed hair and flushed skin afterwards as Yoongi peels his hand away and leaves the room, heads to the bathroom or the bedroom or wherever there is a shred of privacy, to work on his own release.

Okay, maybe it _isn't_ romantic, at least not in any traditional sense. Maybe it's weird and kind of inappropriate and a stupid game to be playing, but -- it's hot and get's him off. Get's Jimin off.

It's something they share, and Yoongi likes that.

Yoongi leans in close, whispers, "Don't move for five minutes" and then he's gone. Shuts the bathroom door behind him, stroking himself as he pictures Jimin as he'd left him, thinks about how easily someone could wake up for water, wander back through to the lounge and find Jimin there-- blissed out, hair sticking to his forehead, breathing still erratic. Would see his top pulled up around his chest, stomach slick with his own cum, his boxers still bunched around his thighs. Wonders how he'd explain it. Would he even try to lie? Or would he just say it -- like he admits when Yoongi's hand is curled around him -- that he's that way because of Min Yoongi.

\---

Yoongi is washing his hands under hot water when there is a soft knock at the bathroom door. He unlocks it, Jimin slipping into the room past him, and watches as the younger peels his top over his shoulders, and reaches to turn on the shower. They eye each almost shyly, which Yoongi thinks is fucking hilarious considering what's been happening in the next room, what will inevitably happen again, but endearing all the same. Wouldn't have it any other way.

"No one woke up," Jimin reports, sliding under the head of the shower to clean himself up. For a moment, Yoongi is sure he sees a glimmer of disappointment in the younger man's eyes.

"Good." Yoongi dries his hands, watching Jimin under the water.

"Um, hyung?" Jimin asks tentatively.

"Uhuh?"

"I was thinking. The next time the others fall asleep in the van, maybe it would be fun..?" Trails off.

"Maybe," Yoongi replies, letting a grin take over his face, feels dumb for a moment about the fact he almost considers that Jimin asking him on a date.

"Goodnight Jimin." He ducks his head as he leaves the bathroom, bumps into Hoseok in the corridor. He's blinking furiously, eyes hardly able to stay open. "You fall asleep too?" he asks, making conversation as he feels his way down the corridor towards the bedroom. Yoongi nods, just once, decides that isn't quite a lie.

There's a confused grunt from the lounge: a tentative call from Seokjin. "What's the sticky stuff on the sofa?" He appears in the doorway, eyes his bandmates with sleep laced suspicion.

"Don't ask us," Hoseok yawns. "We fell asleep too, right?"

And Yoongi just shrugs, hides a small smile and tries to remember what colour the upholstery in the van is.


End file.
